


Stir Crazy

by Devilc



Category: WildCATs, Wildcats 3.0
Genre: Comics, First Time, M/M, Mind Control, Mindfuck, WildStorm Universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-21
Updated: 2009-12-21
Packaged: 2017-10-04 21:28:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/34306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Devilc/pseuds/Devilc
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Agent Wax, Grifter, and three days in the same room together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stir Crazy

**Author's Note:**

> Joe Casey's Wildcats 3.0 is one of the sickest, funniest (the National Park Service is a front for a black ops organization), and just plain awesome comics out there.
> 
> I loved the tension in the first few issues between hardened grifter, badass Cole Cash and the ever so suave and cool Agent Wax. My mind said, "what if" and my fingers followed.

Great, so he and Agent Wax were "guests" of CC Rendozzo again; god only knew how long it was before Jack Marlowe would notice they were gone and decide to bail them out. Marlowe had some really strange priorities these days, and sometimes Cole Cash wondered just where he and Agent Wax fit into those priorities.

Of course, it was better this time around than the last time. That time they had spent 3 days in the sweltering darkness of an abandoned tanker car until Ms Rendozzo decided to take them out before they baked and sweated to death.

But after 3 days even a decently appointed room began to pall. Large bedroom, king sized bed, TV, shower, 3 squares a day, no phones, and Mr. Wax, slouched in a wing chair, supremely, irritatingly calm, his blue suit coat and black shirt still looking crisp and presentable while Cole's dockers and polo shirt really needed a wash or something. Just the two of them in a room in her vast Florida mansion, not even a lock on the door. And if they tried to open that door and step through, they were dead. That fucking turbo bitch had stripped him naked and taken every one of his guns so there was no way out, and Wax couldn't use his mojo on the goons outside. Damn cybernetic implants.

Three days in this room and no Jack Marlowe pulling their asses out of the fire, or Ms Bitch on Wheels Rendozzo telling them what she wanted from them this time. To top it all off, that towheaded fucker still wouldn't tell him his first name. Wax. What kind of name was that?

Confronted with 200+ channels of nothing, and realizing it was at least another 3 hours 'till dinner, Cole began pacing irritably across the room.

"Do you mind?" Blue eyes flicked up from the latest issue of Popular Mechanics.

"Well what am I supposed to do?" He snapped. "There's nothing on TV, the bitch didn't at least leave a Playboy, or even a gameboy, it's awhile yet to the next meal, I'm out of cigarettes, and it's your damn fault we're in here."

"True, except that last item."

For several delicious moments Cole thought about throttling Wax. Just leaping up onto the chair, straddling him, squeezing his throat and bashing his head into the backboard several times for good measure. The fact that Wax was a National Park Service agent, and probably every bit as good as he was at hand to hand, stopped that train of thought in its tracks.

They'd doubtless just end up trashing the room, and the turbo bitch queen would not send in room service to clean it up, or if he did end up killing the utterly so suave and unflappable Wax, she'd probably leave the corpse in the room until it stank to high heaven.

"Perhaps you should take a shower and cool down."

Right.

And not knowing what else to do, Cole did just that. Hopped in the shower and let the needles of lukewarm water pelt him and thought of all the things he was going to do to Wax when they got their asses out of this one, fantasized about shaking him until his teeth rattled, punching him and making him bleed all over that suit, and then he was going to ...

_kiss him?!_

_roll him over and plow him into the mattress?!_

Ohhhh, that **fucking bastard**. He was not going to get away with mind fuckery like this. Cole wrenched the shower off so suddenly he almost pulled the faucet out of the wall, wrapped a towel around his hips and stormed out of the bathroom.

The instant Wax's eyes met his, he leapt out of the chair and immediately went into a defensive stance.

_Aha! Guilty!_

"**Busted!** You are a **dead** man!" Cole howled with glee.

"What did I do?"

"What do you mean 'what did I do?' The minute I came out you immediately leapt up to defend yourself because you knew I was on to you. I told you that if you ever, ever used your hypno powers on me, you were a dead man, and you are _so_ busted."

"Uh, Cash, I'm reacting because you stormed out the the bathroom, dripping wet, with bloody murder in your eyes for no reason that I can figure out. Besides, I haven't used my hypno powers on you. Because you're a Gen-Active, there's no way I could do it without you knowing, which means you can fight it, and it's really hard to maintain when someone's fighting. Besides, I can't do it when a person's in another room."

"Oh yeah, then how do you explain this?!" Cole whipped away the towel.

Wax's eyes widened and he sputtered for several moments before saying, "I don't know  you won the genetic jackpot?"

"Women, Wax. Since puberty, I admit I've been a slave to my dick. But I dig _women_, Wax. So why is it after 20 years of enthusiastic heterosexuality I suddenly have an overwhelming urge to give you the high hard one?"

"Oh."

"You worked your mojo on me, you rump wrangler, that's what!"

"Uh, no, Cash, like I said, that's not how my 'mojo' works. It would have to be something like me looking you in the eye" a faint blue glow surrounded Wax "and telling you to hold on a moment while I get undressed."

_Oh fuck_. Wax really was a dead man. And Wax was also right about 'you'll know if I've hypnotized you 'thing. Cole's mind screamed at him to slug that smug NPS agent, and yet he stood waiting while Wax unlaced his shoes and then stood and neatly set his jacket aside.

"What are you doing?" he finally asked, as Wax neatly set his shirt and trousers over the chair.

"Making hay while the sun shines."

"You're too funny."

"Now, how can a 'rump wrangler' like me avoid a set up like this, Cash? You walked right into this, giving me a perfect opportunity and motive. I mean, you're obviously willing — or at least _that_ part of you likes the idea. Don't worry, I can probably make it so the rest of you doesn't remember if you want."

"Why are you doing this?" He hoped he didn't sound too desperate.

"Um ... I'll never get another chance? Besides," Wax said, running his fingers gently over Cole's collar bones and broad shoulders, "you are a very handsome fellow. I'm an omnivore when it comes to fucking, and I do admit to having thought about this from time to time." Then he claimed Cole's lips in a gentle, yet firm, kiss.

_Not bad. _

_Oh, what the hell, why not? All orgasms are created equal, right? _

Cole put his arms around Wax, delighting in the way this brought them cock to cock, and returned the kiss, throwing in a little tongue for good measure.

"Oh, and Cash," Wax said as they broke for air, "My 'mojo' only extended as far as having you stand still while I stripped. Everything else that's happened after is because you let me."

"Oh shut up already." Cole hit him with another kiss, and lips still locked, began backing Wax towards the bed.


End file.
